


With Sight Comes Perspective

by TeasTakingOver



Category: Sam & Colby, Sam Golbach - Fandom, Youtube RPF
Genre: Angst, Based off that one chapter in silhouette, Because I love Dissonance's AU, Deyvin Elton and Aaron are only mentioned, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nothing really happens just click away, Sam and Kat are 'dating', Sam has the Sight, Silhouette AU, Solby if you squint, paranormal experiences, poorly, sorry - Freeform, tiny fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-01-25
Packaged: 2019-03-09 12:23:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13481418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeasTakingOver/pseuds/TeasTakingOver
Summary: Inspired by Dissonance's Silhouette AU because I loved it so much! Honestly I would love to see the Sam Golbach tag get on it's feet from more fics like this.Set between Silhouette and Paranoia, Sam has another encounter with an angry spirit. What is this one angry at? Not the rules of the Ouija Board being broken, but he's hates that Sam has Colby.





	With Sight Comes Perspective

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dissonance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dissonance/gifts).



> Dissonance, if you hate this I apologize. Blame my sleep deprived brain on multiple cups of coffee last night and quick editing during college classes. Actually, just click away now. Save yourself the cringe.

_We’ve been ignored for long enough._

There is nothing more intimate than someone holding your wound close as you bleed out on the asphalt with all to see. Sam could tell you such. He could feel every dip and curve of Colby’s hands as they feverishly pressed on his icy skin. Each finger clawing into him for a grip branched into numbing electricity that had Sam gasping. 

It hurt so much. And Sam didn’t want it to stop. By God, it wasn’t pleasurable at all, it was agonizing to feel like his own heart beating faster and faster compensating for blood he was losing. This was nerve wracking, mind numbing PAIN. But Lord don’t let this stop. If he could feel, he was still alive. 

Clinging onto consciousness, sure. Writhing on the floor, reddened flesh staining his best friend, sure. He was fighting for breath, each intake burning his throat and the backs of his eyes. But he was alive. 

His body fought against it all, but Sam kept his grip on Colby to keep him grounded. It stopped him from floating away in the black, flickering abyss of pain. Like a tied balloon in a gust of wind. 

A bullet was lodged in his chest. A bullet. In his stomach. Sam wanted nothing more than to dig his fingers into his parted torso and claw out the metal himself. The pain was that bad- that maddening. But Colby, strangely enough, was quick to grab him by the wrist and pin him to the ground, his sobbing and pleading raising in pitch painfully. Now that felt WRONG. 

Death was looming over him, it’s shadow blinding him with what could be the last image he would ever see: Colby’s icy blue eyes holding him in place. 

Colby’s hands on him, gazes fixed, their hot breaths mingling as they called each other's names as though they were miles apart but in reality only centimeters separated. 

Sam knew he should have been focused on being awake and alert. He’s heard before that it’s not the bullet that kills but the shock victims succumb to. Though, he couldn’t help but think of how different this was compared to how he always thought it was. Sam knew he was dying, staring at his own white shirt growing red like a fungus. Staining Colby’s hands so vividly Sam couldn’t help but stare at the dark contrast against his pale skin. He felt like what was lost was suddenly replaced with helium, lifting him from the cruel asphalt. Dizziness, he knew, will soon spin him into unconsciousness. 

But Sam did not feel close to death. Instead, he only felt close to Colby. 

Perhaps it was his mind trying to steer him away from the thought of death. Maybe he was going delirious with blood loss. Maybe his brain was shooting endorphins left and right trying to make his passing more comfortable or attempting to numb the pain. Same was denying the fact that shock was setting in, he knew this. But he didn’t want this to end with a shot pride. 

He wanted this to feel right. Being this close to his best friend, feeling as if he was apart of him, smelling his pine and apple jacket scent over the irony blood. Some way, somehow, this had to be right. As if he was built to accept this. He can only fight to stay awake if those hands stay on him, oh God please. Sam even pressed his own hand on Colby’s, sending another shot of pain throughout his body.

Blackness was closing in. 

Sam groaned lowly, unsure why a feeling so spiritual could cause him so much pain. 

“Stay awake Sam.” Colby’s voice was finally coherently processed between Sam’s ringing ears. He was probably unaware how goosebumps raised on quickly cooling skin. The poor brunet was terrified, obviously not feeling the sense of closeness Sam was. Of course he wasn’t- Colby wasn’t the one who had a hole shot into his chest.

“I… I’m trying.” Sam tried to say, but his lips felt like cotton and his tongue was heavy. Slurred speech was definitely not a good sign. An empty coldness blew through his neck and head when Colby moved his hands from his wrist and wound. Suddenly Sam felt incomplete, anxious. Alone in the face of death surrounding him. 

“Sam, stop it.” Colby suddenly said, voice hard. 

And death was… strangely not pale. It had a face even. Tan, in fact. Black hair framed his face in knotted clumps, dried blood spotted under his chin. He couldn’t have be older than thirty, but his sunken eyes and pale, blue lips looked skeletal. Sam let his eyes trail down the stain leading to his chest on an old blue shirt. There was a dark stain there. Sam wished it he could say it was food or paint or something. But the gleam the stain gave in the street light told him he was wrong. Painfully wrong. It was blood. And he was still bleeding. And he was emotionless. 

“You’re scaring me. What are you looking at?” 

In the exact same spot Sam was bleeding. 

“He-” Sam swallowed forcefully, trying to figure out how to say anything. Especially what he was seeing over Colby’s shoulder. “There’s something…”

“What?” Colby questioned.

“Someone! There’s someone there!”

_We keep screaming._

Sam couldn’t tear his eyes away from the terrifying man who looked at him with apathetic eyes. Coldly empty. Dark. Killing him from the gaze alone. Suddenly his wound gave a painful flare, hellish fire licking away in his chest and Sam had to start clawing at it again, only wanting it out of his body, even if it killed him. But once again Colby grabbed his hands and pulled them away.

“Fuck- stop that Sam!” His friend shouted. “What’s going on?!” 

What’s going on? Sam has a fucking bullet in him! And there’s a man watching him writhe in pain, interrupting his moment of spiritual closeness to his best friend- a soul mate. 

“It hurts Colby. It hurts!” Sam cried. He tried to pry Colby’s fingers off his wrist. He had to dug into the wound, he had to get that damned bullet out of him. He had to fucking die already and get the agony over with and keep this feeling going. Shock was setting in. It was going to all end if Sam didn’t do this. 

The man behind Colby finally spoke. His voice was raspy, and every syllable brought a new sputter of dark blood to coat his lips. “Why should you get a peaceful passing?” He asked quietly. Colby, it seemed, either didn’t hear him or didn’t pay attention. Sam wished he had those options. He wished he weren’t in this position. He wished he could have just stop, go back to a few minutes ago after he screamed, after the gunshot, after Colby gathered him into his embrace and hold him through the pain. He wished he could only feel that numbness. 

And somebody heard his wish. 

The man over Colby’s shoulder sneered. “Why….” He growled, “should YOU get a peaceful passing?!” Suddenly his fist raised and came quickly towards him, trying to fly over Colby and attack the blonde. But as soon as he made contact with Sam’s forehead, he vanished. Poof, he was gone. 

And with that, feeling left too. Numbness began eating at him from his forehead and dripping down to the wound on his chest. The coldness compressed, causing a thick pressure forcing Sam to take a fresh new breath of air. Reluctantly, Sam let his chest expand, expecting it to sting in agonizing pain again. 

But… that didn’t happen. Instead of feeling the parting of sticky, mauled skin again, a healthy, unscathed body breathed again. 

There was no bullet wound. There was no bullet. There was no gunshot? There was no pain? 

_But maybe by making you scream, you will hear._

Colby sighed, seeing the light return to Sam’s eyes again. The hazy mist of trance that had once overtaken the man lifted finally. “Thank god. You okay Sam?” 

Sam’s hand shot up again, but instead of scratching at his skin to gouge out a metal piece, he felt his chest. It was in one piece. There was nothing. 

“I mean, obviously you weren't but, I mean…” Colby stuttered out in that deep way only he could. 

He still smelled blood but a quick inhale of coppery scent told him that his nose was bleeding again. 

Sam shook his head a little, driving the last of the lightheadedness away. “No, I think. Um, I think I'm good. It passed, whatever it was.”

Colby let out a deep sigh. A tear seemed to let itself go as well, but Sam chose to let that go unnoticed. Colby was scared. He just terrified his best friend half to death because he thought he was dying. 

_‘But wasn't I?’_

It felt all too real. There was no way it could have been a dream. Another trance? Sam shuddered remembering the massive beast he thought crushed him back on that snowy day. 

After all, Sam didn't remember falling asleep on the street outside their house. Thankfully no cars had come by to see the scene unfold. He’d either be sent to the hospital with no injuries or tested for drugs. If wind of that got to the fans no doubt it’d be the Faze Tunnel controversy all over again. He looked up at Colby’s darkened face, his hair illuminated by the street lamp above them. 

“Mind if I ask why we’re outside?” 

There was a second of worry passing through his gaze and Sam wondered if he was about to start another episode only Colby could see coming. But it didn't happen. 

“I followed you. Um, you weren't there when I woke up and I got scared.” Colby said in a small voice. There was a sense of fondness replacing his once hurting flesh. Colby was a heavy sleeper and Sam doubted just him getting out of bed woke him up. Maybe he felt the same sense of dread that overcame him when spirits were around. 

Sam hoped not. He wouldn’t wish his “Sight” on anybody on any level. Even when he didn’t see spirits, Sam got nauseous whenever he felt them. 

Colby gently felt around his chest with him. “Does it still hurt?”

“N-not really. Just kinda sore, I guess.” Sam groaned. The whiplash turning from near-death adrenalin to nothing settled in and he felt drained, a deflated balloon. “What time is it?”

“Care to take a gander?” Colby half joked. 

“Witching hour?”

“You know it.” 

Silence came in the form of a cat crossing the street. Sam watched it with drooping eyes. The night cold that once bit at his skin was replaced with Colby’s warm jacket. His hot breath catching up to itself. His sunny spirit that helped Sam survive this latest ordeal.  
\-------  
The front door was wide open with Corey standing there, metal baseball bat in hand. Confused, Sam gestured to it with the hand not hanging onto Colby’s shoulder for support. “What’s with that?” He tiredly asked. Colby gave him a glance as if to sign “say as little as possible and go along with it.”

Corey scoffed and crossed his arm. “Well excuse me for assuming the worst when I heard you screaming and running out of the house. I thought somebody was robbing us, man!” 

“I told Corey that Kat thought you’ve been sleepwalking these past couple night, and maybe you were having a nightmare this time.” It’s scary how good of a liar Colby has gotten these past couple weeks. Sam nodded along. 

“Dang, I didn't think they’d get this bad.” He muttered. Sam hoped his tired demeanor would hide his lie. And it seemed to work. Though maybe Corey was just tired himself and was willing to agree with anything just to go back to sleep. Three am is a time none of them should be up at on a weekday. 

Rubbing his eyes with a shaking hand, Corey grimaced. “Just try not scaring me like that again.” Of course he was worried for his friend’s newly discovered “night terrors” but it seemed Colby knew of them, or at least how to handle them. Afterall, what happened at the tunnel and the cliff would give anybody nightmares. So he simply agreed, gave Sam an anxious look, and went back upstairs.

With any luck, he won’t go into much detail as to what happened with Devyn, Aaron and Elton. Sam’s sleepwalking, that’s all. But he couldn’t help dreading what would happen if the conversation didn’t end there. 

“We have to tell them sometime. They’re going to find out either way.” Colby warned him. 

Sam only shrugged. “Let’s cross that bridge when we come to it.” He suggested, though he felt that bridge was quickly burning, leaving ashes and dust so heavy his friends won’t be able to see him the same ever again. They will want nothing to do with him when they find out the truth. Maybe the only reason Colby is still around is because they’ve been friends since middle school. It was a pretty major decision to move out to California like this and Colby just hasn’t found a way to go back to Kansas yet. 

Insecurities plagued him. Thinking back to how he felt while he was in “shock” though, Sam couldn’t imagine feeling so close to anyother human being. It would be just cruel to so easily be able to fall for someone if they could leave once things start to get rough. Or scary, which is all Sam seemed to be now.  
\---------

“They’re getting worse Sam.” That voice even managed to warm him like a mitten. It was deep and savory. Like the taste of homecooked dinner special to only him. Sam let his hand intertwine with Colby’s, giving him a fond, reassuring squeeze as his bedroom door closed. “I know. But I don’t know how to stop them. The spirits, whatever they are, they’re angry. At me.”

“Do you know why?”

It all started when Sam broke the rules of the Ouija board. If only he hadn’t done something so stupid. He scolded himself for it every day but still, that didn’t seem the be the ONLY reason for this. Each spirit seemed angry, sure, but for different reasons. 

“The guy I saw, he was angry at me because he said I was having a peaceful passing.” Sam explained. At least this one he had a good guess at. 

Colby scoffed. “You call that PEACEFUL?” He shook Sam a bit to make sure he was hearing this. “I found you screaming on the ground out there. I was so scared Sam, and you were screaming so much!” His pitch went high for a moment, a telltale sign he was scared or wanted to cry. 

“Yeah but,” The blonde didn’t know how to word this. He lead Colby to sit on the bed with him as he thought. ” I did feel at peace for a second there. It was weird. I-I was hurting, yeah, but… corny as it sounds, I had you there and it made it all better.”

He could tell without even looking Colby was staring at him in disbelief. 

“And when you stopped, what I thought, holding my gunshot, I felt so… alone. Anxious. Lost. Anything but peaceful, trust me. Maybe that ghost was angry that I had someone there to help me and he probably didn’t.” Sam finished. If there’s one thing he can be grateful for is that the Sight has given him perspective on those before him who had it worse than him. 

That mutilated little girl, the boy stuck in the tunnel. The girl who fell to her death on the cliff. 

Sam let himself lay down, his own skeleton creaking. He rubbed at his chest again with his knuckles. At least this episode didn’t end with more scarring. Yet another thing to be thankful for. 

But if for nothing else, Sam was thankful for Colby, and the Sight for leading him his way. Though Sam had to admit he felt eternally guilty for dragging him in this mess. 

He could only hope that Colby stayed, no matter what.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm only proud that I posted again, I never said I'm proud of this.
> 
> Yell at me on my tumblr @teastakingover
> 
> If you like Sam whump go read Silhouette and Watercolor by Dissonance :)


End file.
